Ackerman
by Hikaru7
Summary: It was a name she had so far been treasuring as a precious gift from the family she lost as a child. Never did she imagine that one day, learning about that name would cause her to feel terror. Never could she expect that seeing it now as the name of someone she had only known by first name and title would cause her such distress. [manga spoilers]
1. Name

_Prologue: Name_

Erwin Smith beckoned to her to take a seat, and she did so, although reluctantly. Every thought in her mind had her head spinning round and round in nauseating circles, and so to avoid being caught up and carried away, she tried to focus her attention on the man's eyes. They looked cold, unreadable.

Did he call her in order to condemn her for what she had done? Would she be banished from the military as the result of her actions? Had she brought shame upon the Lance Corporal? Or was she only the victim of her own heart, and a cruel man's will?

"Mikasa." When Erwin addressed her, it was in the voice of a gentle, forbearing father, so much in contrast of what she had expected that she suddenly felt confused again.

The man slid a piece of paper in front of her, and she looked at it, recognizing it as a report on the operations and information gathered in the Capital.

"After all those years of comradeship, I'm well aware that there still remain a lot of facts I don't know about him," Erwin said. "And there are some things even he might not know about himself."

"Because his memories were wiped clean," Mikasa spoke, her voice sounding hollow and distant as she kept her eyes fixed upon a single word on the page: a name she had so far been treasuring as a precious gift from the family she lost as a child. Never did she imagine that one day, learning about that name would cause her to feel terror. Never could she expect that seeing it now as the name of someone she had only known by first name and title would cause her such distress.

"Now you might understand his dilemma," Erwin told her in a quiet voice.


	2. Lost

_Chapter 01: Lost_

"And where's the Lance Corporal?" Jean asked in a casual voice.

The squad members were all sitting around the table, only their leader was missing. Mikasa was sitting at the far end, away from the others, looking vacantly onto her untouched plate. Jean was speaking loud enough to make it clear that he had intended his question for her to answer. Mikasa acted as if she couldn't hear him, and didn't care about what he had to say. Slowly, she took up a fork and stabbed a piece of carrot with it, bringing it to her mouth to eat. It was half raw. That day's cook did a shitty job, she thought. But she had to eat.

"Had a rough night, didn't he?" Jean continued, not even trying to hide the fact anymore that he was communicating to her. Mikasa could feel his contemptuous eyes stabbing her through the veil of raven hair that covered her perfectly expressionless profile.

'Don't get provoked. Don't let it show,' she told herself, trying to block out the sneering voice. Jean had been the first one to find out, and of course he had to be a total jerk about it.

"The Lance Corporal is a busy man," Eren put in, his voice sounding only a bit nervous. "I'm sure he has a lot of work to do, with the recent upheaval and all that…"

The innocent green eyes searched out her own dark, indifferent gaze, a hint of apology reflected in them. Eren had been the second one to learn about her secret. Mikasa didn't mind him knowing. Eren was like a brother to her, there had never been secrets between the two of them before, and she could always be sure that even if the whole world were to turn against her, condemn her for whatever she had done, that hot-headed boy with the vivid green eyes would still be by her side. Always, no matter what. That thought made her feel infinitely strong.

But in spite of Eren's continuous efforts to cover for her, the thing was already as good as out, and Mikasa could feel herself gradually approaching a breaking point.

"Too busy to give a damn about his own squad, it seems," Jean went on, adding with a vicious edge, "Except for his favoured pet."

That was the point where Mikasa had had enough. She dropped her fork, stood and left the table without a word, although she had a fierce struggle with herself not to yell in his face, and get rid of her anger and frustration.

'Do you want to know where the Lance Corporal is, you jerkface?' she fumed to herself inwardly. 'I _ate_ him! I could do it, I feel so hungry, anyway…'

**A**

She marched through the empty corridor, alone with her thoughts. 'When did I become so weak?' she asked herself, even though the answer was quite clear to her.

She hadn't seen the Lance Corporal for days. He had cancelled their training sessions. He had stopped visiting her during the night after lights-out. He had done everything to make her feel lost and lonely again, as if being trapped in a labyrinth of a dream, desperately trying to find a way out.

'Rivaille… Rivaille…' She kept calling his name in her head, but she received no answer. He was making her feel like a child, ready to burst out in tears.

The sound of rushing hoofs in the courtyard dragged her back from the misery of her thoughts. A single rider had entered through the open gate, wearing a brown cape and civilian clothes, so that Mikasa couldn't tell whether it was a soldier from one of the three divisions. Once the visitor dismounted from the horse with a sure, swift movement, she noticed the rider's short figure, and for a brief moment she allowed herself the hope that it was the Lance Corporal.

But she recognized her error the instant the person approached her, for she couldn't detect that faintest limp in the visitor's steps that she never failed to notice in the Lance Corporal, no matter how skilful the man was in hiding his deficiencies. She knew that the effects of the injury were still there. She was aware, because she had been the cause of it.

"Mikasa Ackerman." The confident, commanding voice belonged to a woman, and when she removed her hood, Mikasa recognized her as one of the elite soldiers of the Garrison. Looking straight into the sharp, clear eyes, the memories of the Trost battle flooded her mind, her heart, making her speechless for a while.

"Rico Brzenska."

The short woman looked back at her from behind her glasses with a mild, searching gaze. Her hair was longer than Mikasa had remembered from the last time they met. When was it, exactly? Even after the sealing of the wall at the Trost District, Mikasa remembered her being there when Eren was retrieved from the Titan shifters and brought back within the wall again, although at the cost of considerable sacrifice.

For her, it was terrible to experience again and again the loss of the person most important to her, but she realized that there were people on her side whose actions prevented her world from falling apart. Rico and her squad did everything to protect Eren. Commander Erwin risked his life to save Eren from the Titans. Lance Corporal Rivaille didn't hesitate to turn his blades against humans in order to get Eren back from the government's grasp.

Their sacrifices might have been made in order to preserve humanity's last hope, but for her, they were doing the favour of saving the last of her family, and for that reason, she couldn't help feeling anything less but the deepest of gratitude towards them. Even for that man, whom she used to loathe so fiercely for his cruel ways…

"May I speak to your Commander?" Rico asked as she walked up to her. Her tone didn't sound urgent, but the fact that she had come visiting rather unexpectedly to the Scouting Legion's headquarters brought Mikasa back into the role of her soldier self again.

"Commander Hanji is usually working in her lab during the morning, but she doesn't really seem to mind company. I can escort you to her now, if you wish," she offered.

For a moment, the woman blinked back at her with mild confusion, then quite surprised her by giving a small laugh.

"How silly of me, I completely forgot." Her cheeks were reddish from the ride in the chilly wind, her eyes bright and animated. "I was thinking about having a word with Erwin Smith."

The mention of the name of her former Commander made Mikasa anxious, but while she was an expert at hiding her emotions, this time, she couldn't conceal her worry.

"Is it about something official?" she asked, before she could check herself.

"No, I didn't come with an official message," the woman replied. "It's more like something personal."

Rico turned away her gaze towards the castle, and Mikasa understood that it was not her place to question her any further.

"I'm afraid he still hasn't come back yet," she told her, looking past the woman's small figure and into the distance beyond the gate. "The only ones who might have any news of him are Commander Hanji and Lance Corporal Rivaille."

"I see," Rico nodded, her expression only slightly dejected. "I hope your superiors wouldn't mind me staying until his return. And I hope it wouldn't be until long…"

Mikasa took the reign of her horse and led the animal to the stables, then escorted the elite soldier to meet up with her eccentric new Commander, who seemed to be more than overjoyed for the company.

"Rivaille is no fun, really," Hanji complained, her loud voice clearly audible even after the lab door closed shut behind her. "The government was brought down, Erwin escaped execution, both Eren and Historia are safe and sound. Seriously, what _could_ possibly be his problem?"

Mikasa was leaning with her back against the cold wall of the corridor, pondering the same question. Consumed by guilt for drenching his hands in human blood? It was a cruel world they lived in, Mikasa had learned as much as early as nine, when she had first soaked her own hands in blood. Surely, it hadn't been the first time for him. Then what? Fear of reverting back into a heartless monster, a killing machine?

No matter what face he would put on for the outside world to see, she knew it was only a mask, and not his true face. He was human. She had known him to be one. He was feeling. She had been feeling enough of him to tell.

The stone wall against her back was like cold skin, the chill of the corridor like an embrace as she pulled her arms around herself tight, as if she could fill up that void in her heart.

She needed to find him, because she knew he wouldn't come to her that night, either.

**A**

She skipped breakfast in the morning, feeling both nausea and hunger clawing at her insides. A quick glance into the mess hall through the open door told her that while the Rivaille Squad was assembled there, obediently eating their meal, he was missing again – pretending to be busy somewhere she couldn't reach him, in some hidden corner of the vast castle they lived in.

That castle had become home to her. Wherever _he_ went, it would be like home, and the thought made her feel both reassured and scared. She had never known a world more important than the one she shared with Eren as family, but now her heart was pulling them apart, longing to have someone else she could call her family. She noticed the change in Eren's eyes, too. He would never judge her feelings, but he seemed hurt, and more distant than she could ever bear without her own heart aching. But still, she couldn't bring herself to give up on her new-found emotions, and she couldn't fully face the fact that those might be unrequited until she heard a definite answer first.

She wanted to know whether the love of one man was worth the sacrifice of growing apart from the only family she had ever known. She wanted to know whether his love for her was strong enough to keep her world together. She wanted to know whether her own heart was strong enough to face the disappointment of not being loved.

Soon, she would have her answers…

**A**

"…you pig of a woman."

The reprimand sounded from through the half-open door of the kitchen down the corridor. Mikasa recognized the voice immediately, and quickened her steps to walk straight into the small, steam-filled room. The first thing her eyes fell upon was Sasha, sitting on a barrel, gobbling something from a large pot.

"'Elo," she said with a full mouth and a wide, content grin.

Mikasa ignored her greeting, and marched further into the room, where a small figure was standing near the oven.

"Lance Corporal, I need to talk to you," she said, not intending to leave the man any chance of escape.

"Ackerman," he replied in a colourless voice. "Can't you see I'm busy with this shit? It's like a fucking wedding. Damn Erwin…" He was pouring a large amount of batter into a huge baking pan, his thin eyebrows creased in concentration. He was too busy to spare her even a fleeting glance.

Mikasa ignored his words, ignored his evident irritation at suddenly being cornered, and came out bluntly with her question, "Why did you discontinue our training sessions, and without even giving a proper notice about it?"

It wasn't the only thing on her mind, and she wanted him to know that there was more. The man slowly turned to finally acknowledge her presence, his face remaining an emotionless mask, only his eyes looked even more tired and intimidating than usual.

"I dropped your lessons, obviously, because you didn't need them anymore." He was speaking slowly, carefully, as if talking down to a child. "And I thought I didn't need to inform you, since I believed you were smart enough to figure it out for yourself."

Mikasa felt infuriated, both by his words and his tone. She couldn't keep down the bitterness anymore. She lost control of herself. "And so you dropped our relationship, too, because you didn't need me anymore? You never even cared enough for me to tell?"

Something behind her dropped to the stone floor with a loud, metallic clang. Mikasa wished it could have been the weight she was feeling on her heart, but even having it out didn't help ease that nauseating tension inside her. She couldn't believe that it was his final answer.

"Wha'? You guys are in a relationship?" Sasha asked in an astonished voice, pieces of potato falling out from her open mouth as she stared at the two of them. In her sudden bout of fury, Mikasa had completely forgotten about her presence. Truth was, she didn't really care anymore.

"Braus, you're dismissed," Rivaille called to the girl sharply.

"But I 'aven't even finished cleanin' up all the grub!" she protested, gesturing to a heap of leftover food, but a stabbing glare from the Lance Corporal told her it was better to go. She scooped up her pot, and disappeared as quickly as she could, but not before sending Mikasa a last, questioning glance.

Mikasa's eyes remained steadily on the man, her chest heaving with anger and all the suppressed emotions, while the Lance Corporal was looking back at her so completely undisturbed that it made her feel even more furious.

"Get your shit together," Rivaille told her in a low, emotionless voice. "We both knew it had to end someday. We both agreed to it. Now is the time. I'm done with wiping tears for a gloomy brat, and you're done with convincing a monster that he has a heart."

He turned away from her again to put the pan into the oven, and proceeded to act as if she weren't even there. Looking at his back, Mikasa could feel the bitter tears welling up in her eyes, and she was too weak to hold them in anymore. After those harsh words, she would have felt humiliated to cry in front of such a heartless man. But instead, it made her feel heart-broken that he wouldn't even look at her. There had been a time when she ceased to be ashamed to show her tears to him, and to lose that time even as a precious memory made her sad.

Nothing seemed to matter anymore. The world around her was collapsing into sharp, cold glass shards. It hurt. She didn't know what to do in order for the pain to stop.

In her helpless frustration, her hand reached into a pot of mixed egg and flour, scooping up a handful and throwing the sticky stuff at the man's small back. Rivaille spun around in an instant with a deathly glare. Yes, she wanted him to see her tears. She wanted him to feel the stab of guilt. But those eyes reflected no emotion at all other than her own anger.

Mikasa turned around and fled from those cruel eyes, those eyes she wanted to believe could show her a world unknown and beautiful. But it had only been that long for the dream to last.

**A**

That night, she was lying sleepless on her bed, crying like a lost child, wanting to be comforted by strong arms, wanting to be whispered loving words. That long night, she saw for the first time how she must have always reflected in to those cold eyes.

Nothing more than a lost child.


	3. Hunger

_Chapter 02: Hunger_

"…never understand why anyone would deny himself such a basic thing. I mean, what's wrong with admitting that a man needs a woman? Or a family? Even in times like this…"

"I absolutely agree!" Hanji nodded vigorously. "Being a lonely bachelor sure wouldn't help humanity! Once things settle inside the walls, once we manage to regain territory, we need to increase the population somehow. And why would our strongest men and women refuse to pass down their exceptional genetic material, it's completely beyond my comprehension!"

"Yes, but what I'm talking about here is not merely the benefits of the genetic enhancement of the population, but more importantly, the advantages for the individual. It still remains a cruel world that we live in, but I just can't agree with the standpoint that monsters can only be fought by becoming monsters ourselves. This philosophy would only serve to breed a whole new generation of monsters, while in fact what I believe we have to do is to try and retain our human hearts, to pass down love to our children. That should be the most important thing to give them, and the only way for humanity to survive, as humans."

Picking at her food, Mikasa was half-listening in on the conversation of the two adult women. Eren was sitting next to her, having a healthy appetite. Mikasa was feeling sick.

"What? Did you say something?" She turned towards the boy with an absent-minded expression.

"I asked whether you'll eat those," Eren said hopefully, pointing at her untouched bread rolls.

"No, you can have them," Mikasa replied, scraping the rest of her food onto Eren's plate. She gathered up her things, then left the mess hall.

Since her training sessions had been cancelled, she was uncertain as to what to do next. She had too much time on her hand. She needed to do something, or she would surely go mad. In the end, she volunteered to help with cleaning up the castle. Erwin Smith was expected to arrive late in the afternoon, and a modest celebration was prepared to commemorate their victory over the government.

Mikasa was assigned to tidy up the living quarters of their former Commander. She went about her task methodically and expertly, without much interest in the heavy volumes of history she proceeded to dust off on the shelves. The only thing she knew for sure was her own history, and she had long since learned to trust her superiors for all the rest. They were wiser. They could make the best decisions for her. They would order her what to do, and she would obey without questioning. Almost like an automaton.

But wasn't she acting more like a child, relying too much on the adults? Maybe she was still immature, and she was doing something awfully wrong. But she had to realize that the biggest mistake she had ever made was to let the Lance Corporal see that most vulnerable side of her, and take advantage of her feelings.

The heavy wooden desk in front of her was littered with letters written in a secret code: the important correspondences from the time they went up against the Central Military Police. From the time they were hiding in a lone cottage in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by grassland and forest.

She could still hear the rustling of greenery in the night breeze. It had been a small taste of peace and freedom. In spite of having to hide from the dangerous threat of an unknown enemy, in spite of the ruthless experiments Eren had been put through, there were moments she could forget the harshness of their situation. When the moon was shining big and silvery, like those eyes she used to think could only reflect cruel indifference.

She never understood why it wasn't Krista, or Eren. Both of them were more deeply involved, their fate was the most at stake – why hadn't it been them who received special attention and comfort from that man, whose skills everyone trusted, but whose heart they feared to know?

Maybe it was her, because the two of them were alike in many respects: silent about their thoughts and emotions, never revealing even before themselves that they possessed a feeling heart. They had built impenetrable glass walls around themselves, but between the two of them, the glass became a mirror, reflecting the other, and once the first smile cracked that glass, they glimpsed each other's true self, and their own.

**A**

Being laid back in the tall grass, Mikasa had first experienced what it was like to be touched by a man, and discover that her body could feel a hundred different sensations – much more than she had previously believed.

The grass was moist with evening dew, the ground damp. It had been awkward at the start, trying to position themselves. Strangely, at that time Mikasa was more worried about the Lance Corporal's aversion of dirt, as well as his recent leg injury, than to have any kind of expectations as to where all those things they engaged in were leading: the kisses, the caresses; cold fingers sliding underneath her clothing and exploring her body, each touch sending a sensation of craving down to her lower abdomen. It was a kind of hunger she had never experienced before. It was almost too painful to endure. She wished something could be done about it.

And once her wish was finally fulfilled, it did hurt, but not as much as to stop her from wanting more. He was careful with her, but then he was also intense, and no matter how trained her body was, she wasn't used to straining her muscles in that unknown, intense pleasure. And once the sensation reached a peak, she could feel her entire body going tense, and the stars overhead seemed to be falling beyond the hazy, silver moons of eyes. She breathed him in with the cold night air, she tasted him one last time, before her body went limp again of exhaustion an unfamiliar, tingling sense of ecstasy.

At that moment, the world seemed to be just perfect. Beautiful. She might have said it aloud, because she remembered him saying, 'No, you are.'

Then the Lance Corporal gathered her up in his arms and brought her back into the house, their shelter. Everyone else was already asleep. He carried her to his own room, insisting that she should bathe with hot water and change into clean clothes, before going to bed, and to sleep. He boiled the water himself, and washed the dirt and sweat off of her naked body. By then, even the slightest trait of embarrassment was gone, replaced by a newfound sense of familiarity.

She remembered asking something about bleeding, and he said, 'Sorry about that. It won't happen again, though.'

She must have had a dejected expression on her face, for he laughed quietly, guessing what was on her mind. She did not dare to speak, or admit, but he said it, 'I mean, next time we do it, it won't hurt so bad.'

'It was good,' she whispered, her words almost inaudible, but he heard them anyway.

'How strange that it was you, after all,' he remarked ever so quietly, before bringing a clean towel to dry her. She would never have dreamed about it, but still, she couldn't find it strange. All past grudges seemed to have melted away in a sense of contentment.

Once thoroughly cleaned, she would do the same for him, cleaning the body that belonged to 'humanity's strongest' – the man she learned to love, with body and heart.

And for that reason, losing his affection after becoming so attached to him was worse than death. Bearing all the humiliation alone made her feel the despair even darker than she had ever had to endure.

**A**

The letters on the desk were splattered with her tears, the ink smearing and leaving ugly blotches on the paper. Stains that couldn't be undone, couldn't be erased. She had made a foolish mistake, allowing herself to feel human, only to be left empty and broken.

She didn't notice the tall man standing in the doorway, until he stepped into the room, the floorboards creaking under his weight. Mikasa threw her fist to her chest in salute, ignoring the tears streaking her cheeks.

"Welcome back, Commander," she said, but then realized her mistake in addressing the man.

Erwin Smith smiled, but his eyes looked weary.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was only cleaning your room," she apologized, collecting her duster and preparing to leave.

"Thank you, Mikasa," Erwin said, taking off his jacket and placing it on a chair. Mikasa knew she shouldn't be staring at the empty sleeve of his shirt, but the loss of the man's right arm inevitably reminded her of how grateful she was to her former Commander.

"Should I bring you something, sir?" she asked from the doorway.

"No, thank you," the man replied, seated behind his desk. "I'll be joining you for dinner in a moment."

Mikasa glanced at the clock. It was already time to serve the evening meal. She had let herself be useless and miserable for far too long. It was unacceptable. She really needed to pull herself together.

Before leaving, she turned back once again. "Rico Brzenska arrived the day before. She wishes to speak to you, sir."

"Well, I was half counting on it that she would," Erwin murmured. His smile looked sad.

Mikasa turned and walked away, before her tears could start pouring again, with no reason at all.

**A**

Any attempt at celebration was rather reserved, even though Commander Hanji did everything in order to heighten the mood. Mikasa didn't feel like sitting with the rest of the squad, and endure Jean's unfair abuse. She knew that he was only jealous, and was trying to alleviate his bitter disappointment by running his mouth and writing her down in front of everyone. She needed none of that.

Eren had unfortunately chosen to sit with the sour-looking Lance Corporal, talking to him, his eyes animated beautifully. Mikasa thought she knew what the boy was doing: he was trying to be even friendlier towards their superior, for her sake. Little could he suspect that it was absolutely unnecessary now. She wished the Lance Corporal would tell Eren, too. Then none of them would have to feel obliged to act like family. It had been a stupid, naïve thought from the start. She couldn't believe how she could be such a brat.

Mikasa joined Armin, who was sitting with Rico, apparently deep in conversation, but neither of them were so inconsiderate as to ignore her presence. Contrary to his word, Erwin only showed up much later, when the cake was being served. It was burnt, and the chocolate topping was too bitter, but still, Mikasa found herself eating a second helping, then Armin's share, too. She would need her strength back to continue her training, even if she had to do it on her own.

Armin was asking Rico about the new type of 3DMG. Being an expert on guns, the woman told him everything she knew about the weapons used along with the new gear they were trying to reconstruct from the Lance Corporal's accounts. Mikasa was a bit surprised by Armin's question. Somehow she believed that the blond boy was still too reluctant to use guns, knowing that those weren't really useful against Titans, but were all the more effective against humans. But then she remembered that times were changing, and in order to survive, one had to set aside their reservations. Armin was making small steps towards changing himself – and so she should follow his example, too.

Mikasa listened to the woman speaking, noticing that her eyes kept flickering towards the opposite end of the room, where Erwin was sitting with Hanji. Mikasa thought it was rather rude of him not to come over and greet the woman, even though he had been informed that she was there because of him, and most certainly not for the awful cake.

But Rico never mentioned it, she kept up the conversation, not even looking at the man anymore. Mikasa felt anger welling up in her once again. She had consumed a glass or two of wine – probably too much for her to handle. She stood up and set out with slightly staggering steps towards the Commander's table, not really sure about what she wanted there. Keeping her eyes on the blond man at the table, she ignored everything else at the periphery of her vision, and so she ended up ramming into a certain irritable midget, who was just about to stand up from his chair.

"Careful, Ackerman," he said in an annoyed voice.

"Oh, _pardon me_, Corporal Shortie," Mikasa replied, her own voice sounding alien to her.

With a click of his tongue, Rivaille turned to walk away, but not before Mikasa made a last remark.

"By the way, your cake tasted like shit. Not so perfect, after all."

Now she realized how she sounded: totally childish. But she didn't care about appearances anymore.

Rivaille turned on her, his eyes sending sparks, but his voice remained utterly calm, only slightly mocking. "Really? Then how come you were eating three platefuls?"

"Were you watching and counting?" she scoffed, a bit astonished. "Even though you don't care anymore?"

"It was such a remarkable feat that I couldn't help but look," Rivaille retorted. "If something's that bad, you shouldn't force yourself to have it."

Mikasa squinted her eyes in a murderous glare, then before she knew it, she pounced on the Lance Corporal.

Eren sprang up from the table to grab her arm, but it was already too late. Her fist connected with Rivaille's face, but the next instant, she received a sobering slap, and staggered back into Eren's arms.

A heavy hand fell on Rivaille's shoulder, and the figure of Erwin Smith was looking over them ominously.

"What is going on here?" he asked, his voice and presence exuding authority.

The Lance Corporal remained in stubborn silence, nursing a black eye, while Mikasa glared back at him, feeling Eren's fingers dig into her arms. She couldn't see the confusion on the boy's face.

Since no-one spoke, Sasha took it upon herself to explain the situation. "It's nothing, sir, just a lover's squabble."

"Shut up, you stupid girl," Jean muttered under his breath, dragging her back to her seat. Judging from the colour of her cheeks, it was evident that Sasha was drunker than anyone in the room.

Erwin's icy blue gaze immediately shot at Mikasa, and she cast down her eyes.

'Great. Now everyone knows,' she thought to herself, feeling mortified. 'I might as well just die here.'

The world around her seemed to be dancing in a vicious circle, only one pale face stood out from the blur. She wanted desperately to escape. The darkness of unconsciousness was welcome to her as she fell limply forward.

She couldn't feel being caught by strong arms. She couldn't hear the words exchanged over her unconscious figure.

"Leave it to me, Eren. I'll take care of her."

"Rivaille. I'd like to have a word with you in my office. Do make haste."

"Tsk."

She couldn't feel her body being carried upstairs to her room, and placed gently on her bed, cold fingers smoothing out the damp locks from her forehead and lingering on her cheek, which she could feel burning just a moment ago.

"I'm so sorry…"

Whispered words lulled her to sleep, and she saw a brief dream. She wished she would never wake up again…


	4. Dream

First of all, thank you for being interested in the story! Actually, I based this little fic on a dream, which involved the kitchen scene with Mikasa confronting Levi and the man shaking her off, while Sasha happened to be there, looking on. It was Mikasa's sadness which really stuck to me from that dream, and Levi might appear cruel to her, but I hope you can understand and forgive him…

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 03: Dream<em>

'Does your leg still hurt?'

'It's not as bad as it used to be.'

She looked at him with a dubious frown. Not wanting to appear weak, he would deny the severity of his condition. She knew it, because she would have done the exact same.

'I think you should rest up,' she advised. He only scoffed at her concern, then reached out an arm to pull her onto his lap. She was careful not to put her full weight on him.

'Well, you might've crippled me for a lifetime with your stupid reckless bullshit,' he said quite lightly. 'So I expect you to make up for it.'

'How?' she asked, feeling suspicious.

'By being nice and obedient.' He ran his fingers up her bare thighs, sending goose bumps all over her body. 'And doing all the hard work while I just lay back and enjoy.'

'You're really a sadist,' she told him, laughing in spite of herself.

'No, I'm actually a masochist,' he said, hauling her up without much effort and laying her down on the bed.

'Oh, and what's that supposed to mean, Lance Corporal?' she asked with a challenging smile. She didn't expect the man to suddenly look so serious. She had become so accustomed to that other, carefree face he kept on showing her from time to time. But after all, that was only a mask, too. A beautiful illusion.

'That's because I'm chasing an impossible dream,' he told her in a hushed voice. 'And no matter how fucked-up the world we're living in, I don't want to give up on that one, small dream.'

At first, Mikasa logically thought that he was talking about the Titan threat, and his wish to get the world rid of them. But soon she found that it was something else the man had in mind. Something she never expected. Rivaille leaned close to her, whispering one word in her ear.

'You.'

**A**

Erwin seemed worked-up when Rivaille entered his office.

"I haven't been here for more than a couple of hours, but I'm already hearing some awful gossip about what came to pass during my absence. I want these rumours to be cleared up now, before they spread to the public."

"It's my shit, Erwin. It was me who tripped and fell. I can deal with it," Rivaille told him in a dead voice as he came to take a seat opposite the man. "You have nothing to worry about."

"I _do_ have, because I care about my soldiers," Erwin replied heatedly.

"You're not even Commander anymore."

Erwin's expression froze, and Rivaille could immediately detect the hurt in his eyes that his words caused. He might as well have thrown to Erwin's head that he was a dead man.

"You are right about that," Erwin said stiffly, "but that doesn't make me any less responsible for the members of the Scouting Legion. Most of the soldiers might have been forced to grow up too soon, but they are still only children. Having an affair with a minor is unpardonable, Rivaille. The military does have sanctions for such an unacceptable conduct, and while it stands far from me to report you immediately, I still can't turn a blind eye on it. So I would advise you that from now on-"

"Stop lecturing me, Erwin," Levi interrupted him. "I fucking don't care if you throw me before a court martial. That's what I deserve, anyway."

Erwin's expression was both stern and astonished. He thought that now in front of him was a whole different person than the comrade he used to know.

"You won't serve humanity by putting yourself to jail, or worst, to the gallows."

"Tell me all about it," Rivaille said with an unusually light, sarcastic undertone, before adding in a dead serious voice, "I'm done with serving humanity. You faced the pigs up close, the ones our soldiers were dying for."

"Yes, but the world we live in is changing," Erwin tried to argue with him.

"But humans never change. There'll always be pigs among them. I'm not playing the role of willing sacrifice anymore. I want to live by my own free will, and not to follow whatever stupid order comes from above. Don't even try to force your standards on me, Erwin. Just because you were too much of a coward to take the woman you loved, it doesn't mean I have to give up on 'her'."

Erwin bore the insults in silence, but deep inside, those words had made aching marks. Yet, he shouldn't have been questioning the Lance Corporal's heart. He knew him enough to understand, and he could sincerely feel for his friend's desperation. He could see now why he was acting so passionate. And he was aware of an obstacle even more serious: he had read all the reports; he was already well acquainted with the part of the rumour which held the most potential to shatter every hope, every dream.

"Even if she is your own kin?" Erwin quietly put the question.

The determination never dulled from the sharp silver eyes.

**A**

Mikasa woke up to a headache, and an unpleasant surge at the back of her neck. She sprang up quickly, covering her mouth with a hand as she dashed down the corridor towards the nearest bathroom.

Nausea overcame her, and she vomited into the toilet bowl, feeling awful and weak. Maybe she shouldn't have drunk so much the previous night. Maybe she shouldn't have drunk at all. She was beginning to remember the ugly scene she had made in front of everyone.

Once her stomach calmed down, having nothing more to be emptied, she gathered herself up to rinse her mouth. Through the sound of running water, she couldn't hear the approaching footsteps, and only noticed the short woman's presence once she glimpsed her reflection in the oval mirror on the wall.

"Are you feeling all right?" Rico asked with concern in her pale eyes.

"I'm fine," Mikasa replied, wiping the cold water from her face with the back of her hand. She didn't need people to feel sorry for her. She didn't want to feel any weaker than she already did.

**A**

It was still early in the morning, too early for breakfast to be served, and she wasn't hungry anyway. Ignoring her sickness, she decided to go out running into the forest. The air was fresh, the grass under her feet wet with morning dew. She drank in a huge lungful of the cold air, before breaking into a run.

A dense haze was rising from the roots of the trees, making it difficult for her to make out the path she was treading on. The air was moist, the ground slippery under her feet. Her breath came out in a thick white cloud.

Her heart was beating hard against her chest. She was becoming tired much earlier than she normally would. Something was wrong with her body. Her foot caught on a root, and she collapsed, not even feeling her body hitting the ground. She had already lost consciousness…

**A**

Rivaille sprang down from the tree branch, lifting out the raven-haired girl from the cold mist. Her face was pale, her lips tinted red. Her beauty made his heart ache. He held her close, wrapping his cloak around her body. He wanted to be with her, for a bit longer, in a moment so perfect as if in a dream.

Ever since last night, he had been so worried about her health that he couldn't even catch a wink of sleep. At that moment, too, he was aware that he couldn't allow himself to hesitate for too long. He must take her back to the castle; to safety and warmth.

"I've made a mistake when I sopped watching you from afar, and first took you in my arms like this, selfishly thinking that just by having you, I could wash away all the guilt and be a better person," he silently confessed. "That I can have a life out of this misery, and be free – to feel; to love. But that might only remain a dream, forever out of reach…"

**A**

"…any result of the blood test?"

"Patience, Rivaille. I need time to do that, and you need it to be authentic. A hundred percent reliable."

"Well, I wish I could just live in ignorance of the facts, but guess it's too late."

From the haze of her sleep, Mikasa could hear hushed voices speaking nearby. She faintly recognized them as belonging to Commander Hanji and the Lance Corporal. She struggled to sit up, but her head felt dizzy.

"Stop overdoing things, brat," a cold voice scolded her, arms pushing her shoulders back on the pillows. "Seriously, what were you thinking, going out alone into the woods, in such a goddamn weather? You could've killed yourself!"

Mikasa laughed faintly. She couldn't see the man's expression, but Rivaille was genuinely concerned.

"Lance Corporal, I think you should let her rest, and lecture her later," Hanji advised, to which he clicked his tongue in irritation, leaving her bedside. Mikasa realized that she was in the infirmary, Hanji beaming down on her, a steaming bowl in her hand.

"Hanji." Rivaille returned, looking unusually flustered. "Get down to work, _now_. I can do that." He took the bowl from Hanji's hand and sat back beside Mikasa's bed.

The scientist shook her head, but gave in. "I'll be in my lab, then."

She left the two of them in tense silence. Mikasa gathered enough strength to sit up. Rivaille dipped the spoon into the thick soup, blew on it softly, then held it out towards Mikasa's mouth. She glared back at him in disgust.

"I can feed myself," she said coldly.

Rivaille dropped the spoon back into the soup, and pushed the bowl onto her lap. Mikasa began eating cautiously, feeling uncomfortable under the sharp silver gaze.

"Aren't you supposed to be busy?" she asked with her mouth full of bread, hoping to repulse him enough to leave her alone. But her effort was to no avail whatsoever. "Working your ass off, instead of babysitting me?"

She was deliberately using words she knew the man would tell her, and at least it seemed to be stirring something inside him. Rivaille's thin eyebrows scrunched together.

'Now you're pissed off,' Mikasa thought with satisfaction, finishing her soup with a loud slurp.

"Okay, fuck, it won't work." The Lance Corporal sprang up from his seat and began pacing the room. "Even if you'd kept on acting like a nasty little piece of shit, I'd still-"

"Excuse me, but _you_ were the one who started it all off, hiding and acting like a cold-hearted asshole, while in fact you just didn't have the balls to tell the truth to my face! No – I had to track your ass down to finally see how things are now," Mikasa cut him off in utter indignation, not minding her language at all. "I never expected you to take responsibility for me, but at least you could've treated me as if I were a human being, and not horse-shit on the sole of your boots."

Rivaille looked back at her thoughtfully before making a reply, "You know, the thing about shit is that even if you manage to scrape it off, the smell still lingers. And I know it's probably the worst parallel I could come up with, but that pretty much describes how I'm feeling right now."

Mikasa blinked back at him in confusion, trying to figure out what the man had meant by saying that, and not liking at all where her thoughts were leading her.

"So you think I'm a clingy, persistent bitch, who would do anything just to make life hell for you? You don't know shit about me. I never told anyone about our secret, but somehow everyone seems to know, and if they intend to make a scandal of it, you can put all the blame on me, for all I care."

"That's not what I meant to say," Rivaille snapped irritably.

"Then what?" she challenged him. This hadn't been the first time they had a row, but in the end, they always managed to laugh it all off. But this time, only the bitterness remained.

"Hanji said a couple of days…" Rivaille murmured, as if to himself, then turned to speak directly to her, "Can you wait for a day or two, until I can tell you?"

"And what makes you sure I'd still be interested, huh?" Mikasa retorted, folding her arms in defiance.

The Lance Corporal finally gave up, and began walking away, but he turned back from the doorway.

"Because you still keep calling my name in your sleep," Rivaille said in a quiet voice, before leaving her alone again.


End file.
